


In My Time Of Dying

by sterekinallcaps (SterekInAllCaps)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crying Derek, Dying Stiles, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Little Gore, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 11:11:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SterekInAllCaps/pseuds/sterekinallcaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The tears didn’t stop flowing; he’d tried to stop them, knowing that it isn’t what Stiles would have wanted, but they kept coming. Derek listened as his heart slowed to a stop. He will never hear another sarcastic comeback. He will never see him driving around town in his Jeep. He’ll never see him smile again. He will never see him bite his lip thoughtfully as he figured out a plan for the latest dilemma. He will never see Stiles again."</p><p>The world didn't stop spinning as Stiles' heart stopped, but in Derek's mind, it did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In My Time Of Dying

**Author's Note:**

> It's very minimum blood/violence, but if you can't handle it, I can't blame you. 
> 
> P.S. I made myself cry a bit while writing this, so beware my friends.

         Blood gushed from where the bowie knife had been just seconds ago as the man ran away with his wallet, leaving behind a searing pain in his stomach. The blade tore through his stomach with ease, like a warm knife slicing through butter. The pain was sharp and unfamiliar, unlike anything he’d ever felt, but it felt far away, like the world was slowly fading away. Stiles fell to the ground, clutching his stomach in a weak attempt to stop the bleeding. He scooted to a nearby tree, his body at an odd angle against the rough bark.

        He pulled out his phone, squinting to see the names and numbers, and tapped the first name that was there, not bothering to actually look for a certain name. He struggled to put the phone to his ear, every muscle in his body hurting, and it rang for a second before Derek answered.

        “What?”

        “D-D-Derek,” Blood dripped from his lips as he stuttered out the wolf’s name. “I n-need help-p,”

        “Stiles, where are you?”

        “W-woods, I-I-I think,” The blood came faster through his lips and the phone slipped from his fingers, but he didn’t bother to grab for it again. He just needed Derek to save the day again.

        Stiles pulled his hand away from the wound, one look at his hand and he regretted it. The thick crimson liquid covered his hand, his only warmth on this cool fall night, and soaked through his purple plaid shirt, a large red stain around the hole in his abdomen. It was too much blood, _way_ too much, and he knew it. The knife had probably hit some majority organ or cut through some important blood vessels.

        He was well aware of the fact that he was about to die, he accepted it really, as the darkness began to blur his vision slightly. The panic had set in and his heart beat roughly and uneven against his chest. He swallowed and took deep slow breaths, trying to calm himself because he knew that death would come faster if his heart was trying to beat out of his chest.

        Then Stiles heard the familiar growl of Derek’s Camaro, then it stopped and Derek came zooming in front of him. He looked at his body for a second, his eyes wide and heavy emotion evident on his face.

        Stiles gave him a crooked smile, blood covering his white teeth. “H-heya, Der-Derek,”

        “I-I don’t know what to do.” It was the first time that he’d ever heard Derek stutter or sound terrified. He stepped closer to him and sat down in front of Stiles and reached for the dagger.

        “No,” He shook his head, stopping him. “I-I’ll bleed more.”

        He stopped, his hand slowly dropping to his side. “I’m sorry.” A lone tear rolled down his face. “I’m so, _so_ sorry, Stiles.”

        “N-no,” Stiles said again.

        “I should’ve protected you better-”

        “It’s o-okay.” He couldn’t let Derek cry. Stiles didn’t want it to end like this. He want a simple, natural death after everyone else he loved was gone, so that no one would cry and grief and suffer after he was gone. Though, he thought he’d be torn to shreds by a werewolf before he was stabbed by a mugger.

        “How bad is it?” Stiles swallowed, preparing for the answer, but Derek shook his head.

        “No, don’t worry about that.” Then he knew that Stiles didn’t have long either. “Stiles,” Derek sat next to him, a few tears ran down his face. “Is there anything I can do?”

        He smiled at Derek the best he could and began his list, “Don’t let Scott turn into a dick, don’t yell at Issac too much, p-protect Lydia and Alison, too,” He paused to cough, blood splattering over his hand. “Or I’ll come back and haunt your werewolf ass.”

        Derek laughed, the sound sweet to his ears, and Stiles did too even though it only made the pain in his stomach worst.

        “And Derek?”

        “Yeah?”

        “Just don’t... die.” Stiles said, glancing over to him.

        Derek wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “You have my word,” He looked back at Stiles, at the trail of blood at the corner of his lips. “I'll do my best.”

        “That’s nice.”

        Silence filled the air as they both grew quiet. Stiles had taken his hand off the wound, simply letting the blood flow. He took deep, even breaths since any one of them could be his last one he’ll ever take. Derek had grabbed his hand, his fingers curling tightly around Stiles’ hand, as he listened to his even heart rate, knowing that his heart will stop beating all together soon.

        “I’m sorry, Stiles.” Derek whispered, tears falling down his face once more.

        “‘S okay, Derek, I’m okay,” His eyes were getting heavy now, eyelashes fluttering, as he looked over at Derek. “It’ll all be alright.” Stiles moved over closer to him, inching closer until he satisfied, and then he laid in his lap, grinning up at Derek.

        Derek watched as the light faded out of his eyes, the usual bright brown turned to a muddy, cloudy ebony, and his skin rapidly turning pale, all color draining from his face, leaving him a ghostly white. His eyes fluttered shut, but the smile remained on his lips. Every second they had together past through his mind. The times he’d saved Stiles’ ass, the times Stiles’ saved his ass, and all the little moments in between.

        The tears didn’t stop flowing; he’d tried to stop them, knowing that it isn’t what Stiles would have wanted, but they kept coming. Derek listened as his heart slowed to a stop. He will never hear another sarcastic comeback. He will never see him driving around town in his Jeep. He’ll never see him smile again. He will never see him bite his lip thoughtfully as he figured out a plan for the latest dilemma. He will never see Stiles again.

        Derek leaned back against the base of the tree, Stiles’ last words swimming around in his head.

_“It’ll all be alright.”_


End file.
